


Break In

by soft_satan



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Dad Evan "Buck" Buckley, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Home Invasion, Hurt/Comfort, I just wanted to practice writing action, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Protectiveness, and protective dad!Buck is my favorite thing right now, completely plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21912856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soft_satan/pseuds/soft_satan
Summary: “9-1-1 what is your emergency?”“Break in,” he gasped as the rattling doorknob stopped. Buck gave their address quickly as he grabbed the bat he kept under his side of the bed. “I saw at least two men. No idea if they're armed.”
Relationships: Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 42
Kudos: 1169





	Break In

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't even try with the title. I'm lowkey ashamed of myself for that. I just wrote this because I wanted to practice writing action and this idea has been swimming around my head for a couple weeks. It's not my best, but it's definitely not my worst. Oh well. Hope you enjoy.

Buck's heart was pounding from the second he opened his eyes. In the glow of the street light filtering in through the curtains, he could see Christopher sound asleep next to him, Buck's arm still draped over his waist protectively. So it wasn't Christopher who had broken something out in the living room. Buck sat up quickly, glancing at the clock beside the bed. Green glowing numbers told him it was 2:43am, still three hours until Eddie would get off work. Buck heard another thump in the living room and bolted up from the bed, moving silently through the room to the door. Knowing exactly how to keep it from creaking, he opened the door a crack, just enough to peer out. His heart was pounding in his throat as he crossed his fingers, hoping to see his husband. Ice cold adrenaline shot through his body when he saw two scraggly men in black clothes pass through the living room, one of them heading down the hall straight toward him. He shut and locked the door quickly, moving to the bed in a flash. Christopher let out a small yelp of surprise as Buck scooped him up off the bed, but any protest from the boy ceased the second Buck shushed him sharply. Buck opened the closet door and sat Christopher in the back corner, yanking clothes off the hangers and draping them over him, making him look like a pile of clothes that wasn’t worth snooping through.

“No matter what happens or what you hear, you stay put, and stay quiet,” Buck instructed, tone hushed but serious. “Even if the closet door opens, you do. Not. Move. Understand?” The boy nodded, wide eyes full of tears, and Buck kissed his forehead before he covered him with a coat. “I love you.”

“Love you, dad,” Christopher whispered, settling into the corner of the closet.

As he shut the door, Buck heard the handle on the bedroom door jiggle as one of the intruders tried to open it. He could hear them talking to each other, but it wasn't loud enough to make out a word. Grabbing his phone, Buck dialed 911 as he got beside their dresser and pushed it to block the closet door. It was solid wood and almost as tall as the closet door itself, but the weight was no trouble for the strength provided by protective instinct. Keeping Christopher safe was the only thing on his mind.

“9-1-1 what is your emergency?”

“Break in,” he gasped as the rattling doorknob stopped. Buck gave their address quickly as he grabbed the bat he kept under his side of the bed. “I saw at least two men. No idea if they're armed.”

“Alright, sir. I have police on the way to your location. Can you tell me your name?”

“Evan Buckley-Diaz.” He was barely paying attention to the call now, instead watching the door closely. If they managed to get the door open, Buck was Christopher's next line of defense, and he took that job seriously.

“Evan, are you alone in the house?”

“I'm with my son,” he whispered, hoping the men couldn't hear him over their talking.

“Police are ten minutes out, Evan. Are you and your son somewhere safe?”

“He is,” Buck said, his stomach twisting as the lock on the doorknob turned. “You’d better send an ambulance, too,” Buck said before he threw the phone onto the bed, still connected.

…

The alarms screamed throughout the firehouse, and Eddie and the rest of the team were up in a flash, heading out of the bunk room in a rush to put on their turnout gear. Bobby’s radio was alive with chatter describing the nature of the call. A reported home invasion, medical assistance requested. A typical call for the middle of the night in LA. It wasn’t until the address was given that Eddie took notice. His blood ran cold, and wide eyes met Bobby’s.

“That’s my address…”

“Let’s move out!” Bobby hollered, snapping Eddie out of his panic.

As soon as they were in the rig and moving, the thoughts began. What would be waiting for him when they got there? Was Buck hurt? Was Christopher? The more he thought, the harder it became to breathe, until he could feel the claws of panic grabbing his heart and squeezing. When he felt a hand grab his, the horrific visions that his imagination had conjured up crumbled away and he returned to the present, looking up to find Hen sitting in front of him.

“Breathe, Eddie,” she told him, squeezing his fingers. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

Eddie nodded, wanting to believe her until the radios crackled to life.

“Dispatch to 118. Be advised. Shots fired. Scene is not secure.”

Eddie felt like he was going to throw up.

“Do you guys own a gun?” Hen asked, failing to keep the worry out of her voice or off her face.

“No,” Eddie breathed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall of the cab. He tried to focus on keeping his breaths slow and even, attempting to keep his panic at bay.

It wasn’t until a couple minutes later, just as they were entering the neighborhood, that the radio crackled again with the voice of the dispatcher. “Dispatch to 118, scene is clear. Report of two victims, unresponsive.”

Anxiety and fear had Eddie’s hands shaking, poised and ready to open the door as soon as they were close enough. The rig hadn’t even come to a complete stop before Eddie was jumping out of it, hitting the ground running to the open front door.

…

He couldn’t hear the tiny voice calling his name from the phone over his heart pounding in his ears. The moment the door opened and Buck saw the face of one of the intruders, he swung. The bat struck the side of the man’s face with a sickening THWACK, sending him face-first into the door before crumpling to the ground. Buck wasted no time taking another swing, but the second intruder was ready. He grabbed the end of the bat and pulled, causing Buck to stumble forward where his face met the intruder’s fist. Falling flat to the floor, Buck barely shook off the dizziness in time to see the man raise the bat high above his head. Buck rolled as the bat came down hard, splintering as it hit the spot where Buck’s head was just a second before. Scrambling to get up, Buck put distance between himself and the only conscious intruder, who abandoned the broken bat on the floor. Buck took a fighting stance, ready to go. He just had to keep the creep away from the closet until the cops showed.

He could do that.

Until the guy pulled a gun.

Buck thanked every deity he could think of that the closet was on the opposite wall. The man fired, missing Buck and shattering the mirror hanging on the wall behind him. Buck quickly realized he had no other possible plan of action, so lunged for the gun. He pushed the gun away from himself as his shoulder connected with the man’s chest, sending them both to the floor and knocking the gun from the man’s hand. Buck reached, even as the intruder struggled to hit him or shove him off. Buck's fingers were just a hair away from the gun when the other man landed a punch to Buck’s kidney. The sudden sharp pain that shot through Buck’s body weakened him enough that the robber was able to shove him off and to the floor. The man scrambled and crawled, grabbing the gun. As he brought it to face Buck, the firefighter shoved the gun away again, climbing back on top of the other man to try and wrestle the weapon from him. The struggle for the gun resulted in another round going off before Buck was able to get enough leverage to bring his elbow down onto the man’s face, his nose snapping like a glow stick bent too far. The shock and pain caused the man to loosen his grip, allowing Buck to pry the gun from his hand and bring the butt down hard across his bloody face. The man went limp instantly.

Buck sat back on his heels, still straddling the robber, and tried to catch his breath. Tossing the gun up onto the bed, safely away from the man beneath him, he glanced to the other intruder, satisfied to find him still unconscious. He could still hear the operator calling him from the phone lying on the bed, but all thoughts left his mind as he looked over to the dresser still sitting in front of the closet and saw a singular bullet hole in one of the drawers. Buck had to force his lungs to work again before he could move.

“No no no no…” He stood so fast he stumbled his way to the dresser, getting to the side of it to shove it out of his way. “Christopher!”

“Dad!” Christopher’s muffled voice called, shaking but strong.

The moment he had a view of the closet door, Buck could breathe again. There was no bullet hole anywhere in the door. He pulled it open and dropped to his knees, digging Chris out of the pile of clothing. The brave boy wasn’t crying or trembling, that was all Buck. As sirens drew closer and red and blue lights filled the room from outside, Buck gathered his son into his arms and stood, keeping Christopher’s face tucked into his shoulder so he wouldn’t see the bloody, unconscious men on the floor. He could hear the front door slam against the wall before he could do anything to stop them, and as the bellowing voices entered the house, Buck thought it best to stay put.

A uniformed officer turned the corner with his gun leading him, stopping short at the two crumpled bodies on the floor. One of Buck’s hands shot up in surrender, the other holding Christopher up.

“I live here! I’m unarmed!” Buck cried, pointing to the bed. “There’s a gun on the bed. My ID is in my wallet there on the nightstand.”

A second officer came in as the first holstered his weapon and stepped over the two men, bending down to check their pulses. “Both are alive. Cuff them while I check him.”

The second officer nodded, pulling out his cuffs to follow the orders. The first officer watched Buck warily as he moved around the bed and picked up the wallet from the nightstand. A quick flip through and the cop withdrew Buck’s license, scrutinizing the picture before doing the same to the man standing before him.

“Alright, thank you, Mr. Buckley-Diaz,” the officer nodded, setting the wallet back on the nightstand. “Are you or your son injured?”

Buck shook his head. “I just want to get him out of this room, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” the officer motioned for them to leave. “Just, uh… watch your step.”

Buck snorted humorlessly as he stepped over the men on the floor, still cradling Christopher’s head to his shoulder. The second officer was on his radio, updating dispatch and giving EMS a heads up on what awaited them. Buck made it to the couch and turned on the side lamp. He sat down with a heavy sigh, settling Christopher on his lap as the boy continued to cling to his neck. The room was a mess, bathed in flashing red and blue lights. The front door was splintered open and would need replaced, the window in the dining room was shattered, and several things were just out of place. But Christopher was alive, and Buck was still breathing, and the mess around him didn’t seem to matter very much.

“I’ve got you, Chris. You’re okay. Everything’s fine,” Buck soothed, running his hand up and down Christopher’s back as he rocked him softly.

Buck heard the familiar sounds of a firetruck and ambulance pulling to a stop and looked up just in time to see his husband, breathless and terrified, stumble to a stop in the doorway. Buck just smiled at him, the relief that always came with Eddie’s presence a welcomed feeling. Eddie just stood there for a beat, glassy eyes glued to the two of them in shock.

“Dad!”

Christopher’s happy call shook Eddie from his trance and propelled him forward. He was dropping to his knees in front of them in a flash, welcoming Christopher’s arms around his neck and squeezing him with one arm, his free hand coming to cup Buck’s cheek tenderly. Buck leaned into the touch with a soft smile, eyes locked with Eddie’s, barely aware of the arrival of the rest of their team.

“We’re okay,” Buck soothed before Eddie could even ask.

Eddie sighed raggedly, pulling Buck into his chest beside Christopher, pressing a kiss to both their heads in turn. “Thank God. I heard over dispatch there were two—”

“Damn, Buckaroo!” Hen called from down the hall. “You sure showed these goons who they were messing with!”

Buck busted into a fit of exhausted giggles, burrowing his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck as the three of them clung to each other.


End file.
